Can You Keep A Secret?
by Michelle-pce
Summary: What if there was an entirely new twist to Freddy Krueger's past? A dark, frightening past involving a girl, who's life is threatened by this cynical, demonic man and then forgets everything, until... AlternateUniverse.Prologue Updated.Please R
1. Prologue

**Title: Can You Keep A Secret?**

**Author: Michelle M.B**

**Rated: M for coarse language & violence**

**PROLOGUE  
**

**What** are dreams? What are nightmares? Do dreams have purposes? Are they omens of some sort, trying to tell us something important? If they are not, then why do we have them? Are dreams our biggest desires? And are nightmares what we fear the most? Every morning someone will recap the dream they had the previous night to someone else and then defend themselves by saying they have _never _thought about that before. And we've never thought about the strange things that occur in our dreams, right?

We can grasp the basic concept of what dreams are. We understand that they are a series of images, ideas, emotions and sensations occurring involuntarily in our minds during sleep. But we will never know _exactly _what they are and why we have them. They aren't just sequences of abnormal images, there is something more to them, and we must read between the lines if we want to interpret our dreams. Our dreams are unique, no other individual can have your background, your emotions, or your personal past experiences. Every dream is connected with our own "reality." When interpreting our dreams, we must look into our past of life experiences.

A dream unifies the body, spirit, and mind. They provide us with insight into ourselves, self-exploration. Once we understand our dreams, we will have a better understanding and discovery of our true selves, who we truly are. In our dreams, we can be anybody, do anything, be anywhere. When we dream we are like passengers on a moving train, unable to control our actions or choose our surroundings. We let our minds take over. Sometimes, dreams can be understood in the context of repressed thoughts. Dreams are like outlets for those repressed thoughts that we avoid throughout the day until we go to sleep. When we do go to sleep at night and fall into dream state, we feel liberated and behave in a manner that we do not allow ourselves in our waking life. Dreams can help us to solve problems or look at life in an entirely different perspective.

And nightmares. Nightmares are like warnings, messages in our minds telling us something is bothering us, something is wrong and we are troubled by that something. We are stressed, depressed, worried. When we have nightmares we just procrastinate instead of immediately tackling our conflicts that will avoid a disastrous outcome. Nightmares are like a last ditch effort to scream for your attention. There's nothing like a heart-pounding, eerie dream that grasps our attention and makes us think, What's going on? Why am I having these dreams? Nobody understands the underlying issues behind nightmares. Nightmares are usually your deepest fears symbolized by frightening images. Nightmares are your wake-up call to problems you need to solve in waking life. Why are they so frightening or graphic? Because that's what most effectively gets our attention. Nightmares are actually helpful, in the same way as physical pain is.

We can always look at dreams and nightmares in this perspective. But is it the real truth? Are nightmares helpful sensations? Or do we have them to terrify us out of our wits? Does the human body work in an evil way like that? Or, most of us reason, dreams are just sequences of scenes and images just passing through our minds while we slumber.

**  
**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**I **awoke abruptly. I had been sleepingcontently when I had slipped into a dream that had really freaked me out. Thirty-seven years old and I was still waking up petrified from a little nightmare. In the nightmare, I had been sliding across a long, checkered floor and my clothes had blown off me just before I slid off the edge of the floor and began to plummet downward, into a never-ending pit of pitch darkness. I hated those dreams, where it actually did feel like you were falling off your bed and then you wake up so suddenly it gets your heart pounding in your chest. My flimsey sheet was entwined around my body and was making me drown in gallons of sweat. At least I had a fan right beside me turned up high.

Liam's side of the bed was empty. He must've slept on the couch again. I turned over and drifted off once again.

I ended up dragging myself out of bed at noon, and I nearly flipped when I had looked at the clock on my nightstand. It was Sunday, but I still couldn't stand sleeping in late and lounging around the house all day. I definitely didn't take advantage of the Holy Sabbath day. I've always been like that, even as a lazy, unmotivated teenager.

When I got downstairs, our house maid/cook, Kim, was walking by and stopped to narrow her eyes at me suspiciously. I didn't know what it was with her. She seemed to hold a permanent grudge against me, from the day she timidly handed me her resume and I hired her, till now. She was all right with Liam, and fabulous with our 13-year-old daughter, Danielle. The first time Danielle met Kim this bond just blossomed between them.

I entered the kitchen and Danielle looked at me in bewilderment. "_You _slept in this late?"

"I really need to start setting my alarm on the weekends. I can't get into this habit, not to mention I hate it." I began to rummage through the fridge for the eggs to prepare my breakfast, when Kim entered the kitchen hurriedly and ushered me out of her way, glaring as she did so. "You don't have to make my breakfast today. It's Sunday."

"It _is _my job," she said sharply. "And I intend to do it."

"You're not religious then, are you?" I asked quizzically.

She turned on me sharply and cocked her eye brow at me. "And what permits you to ask such a personal question?"

"Well," I said, "religious people usually don't work on the Holy Sabbath day."

"I was at one point. But not anymore." She turned back to the fridge and I knew that there was no point in questioning her any further. She was very tenacious. She pulled out the eggs from the fridge and set them on the counter.

"Kim," Danielle piped up, as if just realizing she was there, "I have to write a ten-page opinion piece for English and I only have three pages done. Wanna help me?"

I didn't get offended anymore if Danielle chose to ask Kim to help her with her homework rather than me. They were extremely close and I was never much of a help anyways.

"Of course," Kim replied cheerily. "What do you have to write about?"

"_The Merchant of Venice,_" Danielle said dully. "Damn Shakespeare. We have to write an opinon piece about whether we think Shylock is the villain or victim."

I scoffed as I poured myself a glass of low pulp orange juice. "Ugh, I _hated _doing God-damned poetry and Shakespearean crap."

Kim turned her narrowed ebony eyes on me once again and said sharply, "Never use the Lord's name in vain."

She had me utterly confounded. She had just finished telling me she wasn't religious anymore, so what was it to her if I used the Lord's name vainly? Now, usually Kim never intimidated me, half the time it seemed like _I _intimidated _her. _But I cowered and shifted uncomfortably under her hard gaze. I sipped my juice and shifted my eyes elsewhere.

Danielle looked awkward. "Okay, thanks. But later, I don't feel like it right now."

"Must you always procrastinate things until Sunday night?" I asked.

She shrugged and Kim scowled. "As if you weren't a lazy teenager yourself. Or should I sa..." She turned away and shook her head. "Never mind."

I was confused again. She dared to presume to tell _me _I was a lazy teenager? She hadn't even known me then, she had no idea what type of student I had been. As a matter of fact, I had been a top student. Everything I had handed in had been done with much effort and handed in on time. But according to her I was a procrastinator?

I stood up and stared her right back, making my eyes as hard as two emerald gemstones. She stared back, and we both just stood there for several moments staring each other down. I didn't know what it was that disturbed her so, but I had had enough. Whatever it was she was condemning me of with those accusative, apprehensive eyes, she was going to have to confront me about it. I was not to be made a coward by the person who cooks my meals.


End file.
